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Songs in Many Keys 


BY 


EMMA INGOLD BOST 

«« 




-pS 35° 3 
\d«.° 


COPYRIGHT 1920 
EMMA INGOLD BOST 


JAN 19 /qp; \^_ 
§)C!. A608222 


Dedication 

This volume is affectionately dedicated to 
my husband whose interest 
made it possible. 

E. I. B. 


Hickory, N. C., December, 1920 


The Author is Indebted to 
Rev. Eugene F. deHeald 
and 

Mr. A. J. Bradshaw 
for the scenes used in illustration. 


Contents 


i 

Songs of the Seasons 

The New Year - — 10 

October Woods 11 

Spring 12 

A Miracle 13 

In the Summer 14 

II 

War Songs 

The Service Flag 17 

My Country Dear 18 

A Knitting Song 19 

America 21 

Our Boys in France 22 

The Changes of a Century 23 

After the War 25 

Back Home : 26 

Welcome Our Heroes 27 

Ppjipp 9Q 

To Those Who 

Lower the Flag 32 

About Face 33 

Nov. 11 — Have We Forgotten? 34 

III 

Kitchen Songs 

Canning Time 36 

Doughnuts 37 

Chow-Chow 39 

Angel-Food in Rhyme 40 

IV 

Songs in Minor Keys 

October Seventeenth 42 


Remembrance 

Anchored 

Bitter Sweet 
At Eventide 
Despondency 
Take Courage . 
Sun And Shade 
Our Holy Dead . 


Songs of the Road 

The Car on the Sand Clay Road 

Then And Now 

A Tiresome Story 

VI 


Songs of Home 

To Peggy 

The Ramseur Reunion 

February Rain 

School Time 

To Phoebe 

The Quarantine For Flu 

Memories 

VII 

Miscellaneous 

Wishes 

A Service Long 

The Mountain Whites 

Our Mission Band 

At Last — The Vote 

Lake Junaluska 

Sleep 

Suppose 

Our Club I_i; 

Dixie Land 

Come to Hickory 


.43 

.44 

.45 

.46 

.47 

.48 

.49 

.50 


52 

53 
55 


.58 

.59 

.60 

.61 

.62 

.63 

.64 


.66 

.67 

.69 

.71 

.72 

.73 

.75 

.76 

.77 

.78 

.79 


Songs in Many Keys 


7 


Helpfulness 

If any story I can write 
Will make some burdened heart grow 
light 

Or cause some weary face to smile, 
That little story is worth while. 

If touch of my sustaining hand 
Can help some wavering one to stand, 
And make its life worth while to live, 
That little touch I want to give. 

If any song that I can sing 

Can but a moment's pleasure bring 

And solace one with its refrain, 

That song has not been sung in vain. 

Our pleasures hinge on such small 
things — 

The cheery word, the voice that sings, 
The helping hand with gentle touch — 
These little things can mean so much. 











Songs in Many Keys 


9 


I 


Songs of the Seasons 

“Perceiv’st thou not the process of the year, 

How the four seasons in four forms appear, 
Resembling human life in ev’ry shape they wear?” 

— Dryden 


10 


Songs in Many Keys 


The New Year 

We question on its threshold, what will the New Year bring? 

Will hearts be dumb with sorrow, or lips be glad and sing? 
Will those that we love be with us, be near us all the way? 

Or will some cord be broken that binds us close today ? 

Will Fortune smile upon us throughout the coming year? 

Or will Misfortune bring us her sorrow, grief and tear? 

Will skies be bright above us, and days be calm and still ? 

Will storm and stress and tempest combine to work their will ? 

But no, we will not question, we will not seek to know, 

What the New Year is holding for it is better so. 

The Old Year is behind us. The New Year, veiled from sight, 

Is ordered well, and this we know “Whatever is, is right.” 





12 


Songs in Many Keys 


Spring 

Oh ! the charm of Spring with its golden hours, 

With its colors rich and its wealth of flowers. 

So rare and sweet the whole world seems 
Like a country fair I have seen in dreams. 

And the tender green of the grass and trees, 

The sway of boughs and the hum of bees, 

And the wooing winds that so softly blow 
As they call and call where the waters flow. 

Just to idly dream on a day like this 
Is all heart could ask of rapturous bliss, 

All should be music and innocent mirth 

When Spring’s gorgeous mantle is decking the earth. 







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Songs in Many Keys 


13 


A Miracle 

I looked, on a Winter morning, 

In wonderment and surprise. 

The world was a place transformed 
Before my enraptured eyes, 

Each branch and tree that yesterday 
The Winter’s bleakness wore, 

Today, with a million diamonds 
Is brilliantly covered o’er. 

Each blade of grass, each house top, — , 
Each bare and unsightly place 
With its new and radiant covering 
Is a marvel of glittering grace, 

As the sun shines out in his beauty 
And the gems flash again and again 
So grand, so entrancing the vision, 

The pleasure is almost a pain. 

And I thought a glimpse of this glory 
Might help us to understand 
The change that awaits all the holy 
In that fair, undiscovered land, 

Where all are as pure as the crystals 
That cover the old earth today, 

Where the Son with his radiant splendor 
Makes gems from our imperfect clay. 


14 


Songs in Many Keys 


In the Summer 

Everything is at its best 
In the Summer; 

There is time for needed rest 
In the Summer. 

Then the earth yields treasures rare. 

Fruits abundant, flowers rare, 

We can almost banish care 
In the Summer. 

Frost and cold we need not fear 
In the Summer. 

Not a chilling wind comes near 
In the Summer; 

All the glorious summer day 

Just to idle, just to play, 

For the world is glad and gay 
In the Summer. 

And the balmy nights we love 
In the Summer; 

Katydids around, above, 

In the Summer; 

Days and nights spent out of doors, 

On the lake the splash of oars — 

Nature lavishes her stores 
In the Summer. 


Songs in Many Keys 


15 


II 


War Songs 

“If ye break faith with us who die, 
We shall not sleep, 

Though poppies grow 
In Flanders Fields.” 

Lieut.-Col. John McCrae. 


16 


Songs in Many Keys 


Hickory’s welcome to her 
returning soldiers 
May 8, 1919 










Songs in Many Keys 


17 


The Service Flag 

(Dedicated to the Boys of Corinth Reformed 
Church, Hickory, December 25th, 1917). 

Pure and unsullied as the White 
When wars and fighting cease, 

God guard and bring you back to us 
And speed the dawn of Peace. 

Each valiant son we recognize 
And place a true Blue Star; 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers go out 
For you, where'er you are. 

The glowing Red that folds you round, 
America's strong arm, 

In home or foreign lands, we pray 
It keeps you safe from harm. 

And if the Flag be floating long 
Or if the Flag be furled, 

Our hearts go out to you today 
Through all the whole wide world. 


18 


Songs in Many Keys 


My Country Dear 

My Country with thy teeming lands, 

My country dear, my country dear! 

With helpful, guiding, willing hands, 

My Country dear, my Country dear! 

When tyrants cruel seek to harm 
And War sends forth its dread alarm, 
Stretch forth thy all-protecting arm 
My country dear, my country dear! 

Let never tyrant make his throne, 

My country dear, my country dear, 
Where rulers are thy people's own, 

My country dear, my country dear! 

Fair Land, reach out across the sea, 

The suffering ones thy brothers be 
Who stand for God and Liberty, 

My country dear, my country dear! 

Protect our men with thy strong hand, 
My country dear, my country dear, 

Who fight for Home and Native Land, 
My country dear, my country dear! 

Thy care and kindness to them shown 
No soldier brave shall stand alone. 

They are our pride, they are our own, 
My country dear, my country dear ! 

1918. 


Songs in Many Keys 


19 


A Knitting Song 

(After “Everybody Works But Father,” with no ap- 
ologies to the author). 

Everybody knits but father and he 
winds yarn all day, 

Forming the big balls swiftly that 
knit so slow away; 

Mother casts on stitches, for she can do it 
right; 

Then everybody knits at our house, 
morning, noon and night. 

Lucy knits a sweater as she walks 
around, 

Using, (per instructions) five eighths 
of a pound; 

Annie knits the wristlets, for she can 
quickly purl, 

“Knit two, purl two,” always a most 
industrious girl. 

Nancy knits the mufflers, the easiest 
work of all, 

The work that is best suited to one so 
young and small; 

Carrie knits the helmets and wonders who 
they'll fit, 

And hopes they're not mistaken for 
a glove or mitt. 


20 


Songs in Many Keys 


Peggy knits a wash cloth, she 
knits one in a day, 

While her thoughts are wandering 
many miles away; 

Mother does the “binding” and knits 
the well shaped socks, 

Then all are sent together in the 
Red Cross Box. 

No one has time for cooking, no 
one has time to eat, 

No one has time to visit or gad upon 
the street; 

Everybody knits at our house be- 
cause we think it right, 

Everybody knits at our house morning, 
noon and night. 

1918. 


Songs in Many Keys 


21 


America 

Thou Nation, strong and great and good 
In storm and stress — as nations should, 

For God and Right hast ever stood, 

America! America! 

When kings and tyrants seek to harm, 

And War sends forth its dread alarm 
Stretch forth thy all-protecting arm, 

America! America! 

Dear Land, in this the World's dark hour 
Swift lend the Allies of thy power 
'Til war clouds shall no longer lower, 

America! America! 

On all thy foes confusion send 
To those oppressed thy succor lend 
'Til cruel war shall have an end, 

America! America! 

Let never tyrant make his throne 
Where rulers are thy people's own, 

Where, worth, not birth shall make them known, 
America! America! 

Fair Land, reach out across the sea 
The suffering ones thy brothers be 
Who stand for Right and Liberty, 

America! America! 


1918. 


22 


Songs in Many Keys 


Our Boys in France 

They hastened to answer their country's call 
With never a backward glance, 

To-day they are standing with courage high 

And are fighting “somewhere in France.” 

We dared not question, “Is it for you 
To meet the dread foe's advance?” 

“Can we give our boys, our dear, brave boys, 
Who may never come back from France ?” 

Would we have them turn unheeding ears, 
To idle, and play, and dance, 

While others are leaving and giving their all 
For Humanity's sake, in France? 

Striving to match their courage grand — 

No thought for the foeman's lance — 

We gave “God-speed” with an aching heart 
When they took their leave for France. 

Be it ours to send them the cheering word; 
Their pleasure it will enhance 

To know we are bravely “doing our bit” 
While they do their best in France. 

If prayers for the dear, dear boys avail, 
They can come to no mischance, 

And after the war how we'll welcome them, 
Our heroes, safe home from France! 

1918. 


Songs in Many Keys 


23 


The Changes of a Century 

If Washington could come to life and see his 
charming full grown daughter, 

If he should fail to doff his hat, you'll think 
with me he surely ought to. 

I think he'd say “Columbia dear, you have grown 
beyond my expectations; 

It gives me joy to see you take the foremost place 
among the nations.” 

Columbia would be proud to show to Washington 
her grand inventions 

And all her gifted sons would vie in showering him with kind 
attentions 

If to the “movies” they should go with all the 
ages brought before him, 

No doubt that Washington would think some wizard's 
spell had fallen o'er him. 

The navy yards and army camps that sprang up 
quickly in a season 

Columbia would show him next and plainly give 
the need and reason. 

If she should say, “Dear father, come, I'll take 
you for a few hours flying,” 

I think that George would be polite the while he 
though that she was lying. 

If at a Suffragists parade he’d ask “Why to 
such measures driven?” 

Her answer: “They but seek today the heritage 
you should have given.” 

Somewhere he might observe a strange, a queer, 
an unattractive creature — 

“That, father, is a Pacifist, that now has 
no redeeming feature.” 

The telegraph, the telephone, the trains that 
pass with roar and thunder 

And many other things would fill George Washington 
with awe and wonder. 


24 


Songs in Many Keys 


And in the Senate chamber he might hear some things 
that would astonish ; 

(How well if George could once return, advise, assist, 
reprove, admonish). 

If to the White House he should go, Columbia still 
his good confessor, 

He’d own in Woodrow Wilson he had found a worthy 
wise successor. 

Then he would say, “Let me go back ! Columbia my 
splendid daughter, 

I’ve seen the things I had not dreamed upon 
the earth, in air or water. 

Yet let me see you win this war,” (such words from 
him would not surprise her) 

“Fight first, fight last, fight all the time until 
you’ve crushed the cruel Kaiser !” 

1918. 


Songs in Many Keys 


25 


After the War 

“After the war is over, 

When I come back, will I find 
The same dear, loving sweetheart, 

So true, so brave, so kind?” 

“After the war is over,” 

Her words ring clear and true — 

“After the war is over, 

I'll be waiting here for you.” 

“Though you come with pomp and glory 
Or just as you go today, 

My prayer is this, “God help you, 

Through all of the weary way/ 

“And though the day be distant 
When our dreams fulfillment see — 

Only come back,” she whispered, 

“Yes, only come back to me.” 

After the war is over, 

With the skies serene and blue, 

After the war is over, 

God grant that their dreams come true. 


1918. 


26 


Songs in Many Keys 


Back Home 

They are coming back o'er land and sea. 
Back home to you and me; 

God speed the train, and guide the ship 
That brings them o'er the sea. 

What royal welcome we will give 
Our heroes tried and true! 

What wealth of love to compensate 
War's perils they passed through. 

And though they come to us unscathed, 
Or maimed by shrapnel shell; 

We only ask that they come back 
To those who love them well. 

And if our eyes are dimmed with tears. 
The reason they will know — 

It is for those on Flanders' Fields 
'Neath crosses “row on row.” 


Songs in Many Keys 


27 


Welcome Our Heroes 

Welcome, our heroes! Welcome home 
to hearts so true! 

Welcome, thrice welcome! All hearts 
honor you 

Who in Life's fair morning marched without 
one backward glance — 

Service flags adorning — to the fields of France. 

Chorus : 

Welcome, thrice welcome! Heart and voice in song 
we raise. 

Lauding our heroes in our songs of praise. 

Your country called you, forth you fared 
so brave and strong 

Bright, bold and fearless — on your lips 
a song. 

When we watched you leaving how we fought 
the gathering tears, 

Fearing War's bereaving or long cruel years. 

Chorus : 

No more War's hardships, take the victor's 
crown you've won! 

Heaven's richest blessings fall on each 
brave son. 

We will still remember, long as life— and mem'ry last 

How our gallant heroes to the right held fast. 

Chorus : 


28 


Songs in Many Keys 


Yet in our greetings, pause that one 
fond tear be shed 

For valiant heroes whom we call “the dead,” — , 

Who in far off Flanders, where the bright, 
red poppies blow, 

They are sleeping under “crosses row on row.” 

Chorus : 

Rest ye, brave heroes ! Rest ye, for 
the victory's won, 

Rest ye, brave heroes! for your work' 
is done 

1918. 


Songs in Many Keys 


29 


Peace 

When all the world was young 
And Life brimmed o'er with health 
One crowning joy I craved 
That crowning joy was wealth. 

When tired with weary years 
Of seeking what was best 
The sweetest gift I sought 
For tired hands was Rest. 

Not now for Rest or Wealth 
My prayer — only that wars may cease 
I pray for greatest boon, 

For universal Peace. 


1918 


30 


Songs in Many Keys 


To Those Who Fell 

(Written for Mrs. J. H. Shuford, and beautifully sung 
by her at a Memorial Service by the American Legion, 
Post 48, in Corinth Church, Hickory, N. C., March 21, 
1920, when the French diplomas were presented to the 
near relatives of “those who fell.”) 

Here we have come to honor heroes brave 
Who for the Right their country fought 
to save ; 

Those who went forth to distant land to 
die — 

In far-off Flanders' Field at rest they 
lie. 

Here we would come to render homage due 
To those who fell — those heroes brave and 
true, 

Here tell with pride, though eyes are 
dimmed with tears, 

We'll keep their mem'ry through all coming 
years. 

The sacrifice supreme they grandly made 
And, though our debt to them can ne'er be 
paid, 

Yet we can give deep gratitude and love 
On Mem'ry's page their names all else 
above. 

Here we have come to render honor due 
To those who fell — those heroes brave and 
true; 

Here tell with pride, though eyes are dimmed 
with tears, 

We'll keep their mem'ry through all coming 
years. 


Songs in Many Keys 


31 


Lord, keep our Country's pages free from 
stain, 

That those who died gave not their lives 
in vain; 

May we who live give loyalty and truth 

Like those who gave their all — their lives 
their youth. 

Here we have come to render homage due 

To those who fell — those heroes brave 
and true — 

Here tell with pride, though eyes are dimmed 
with tears, 

We’ll keep their mem’ry through all coming 
years. 


32 


Songs in Many Keys 


Lower the Flag 

(Tune — “Drink to me only with thine eyes”) 
Dedicated to Lieutenant Orin Morrow Sigmon who 
made the Supreme Sacrifice. Sung by Mrs. J. H. Shu- 
ford January 4th, 1920, when the Service Flag of Corinth 
Reformed Church, Hickory, N. C., was lowered). 

Lower the flag! The Service Flag, 

Glad that its need is o'er; 

Proudly unfurled, through weary years, 

Each dear-loved star it bore. 

Lower the flag ! Our Service Flag ! 

We love each shining fold; 

Pride in each star of deepest blue, 

Tears for the star of gold. 

Lower the flag while hearts beat high 
For deeds our boys have done; 

Heroes so true, we rev'rent stand 
To honor each brave son. 

Lower the flag! Our Service Flag! 

We love each shining fold, 

Pride in each star of deepest blue, 

Tears for the star of gold ! 

Through coming years we'll guard it well, 

A treasure that will show 
To all the world our men went forth 
And conquered every foe! 

Lower the flag ! Our Service Flag ! 

We love each shining fold, 

Pride in each star of deepest blue, 

Tears for the star of gold ! 


Songs in Many Keys 


33 


About Face 

Let me go back to fair, unclouded days, 

Let me go back to smooth and pleasant ways, 

When hearts knew not War's wrench and wreck and rack 
Let me go back, let me go back! 

Let me go back when friends were gathered near, 

When all were free from dread and pain and fear, 

When no one felt a need, a loss or lack — 

Let me go back, let me go back! 

Let me go back when Peace, sweet Peace, held sway, 
When sound of War disturbed not, night or day, 

When, safe at home, no fear of foes' attack — 

Let me go back, let me go back! 

Alas! To none can come departed days, 

All must go on through strange, untrodden ways ; 

Take courage, heart ; I will not shirk nor slack — 

I'll say, “Go on !" no more, “Let me go back !" 


1919 


34 


Songs in Many Keys 


November 1 1 — Have We Forgotten? 

Would we had power to show — that they might see 
Those soldiers brave who died for you and me — 

That they are not forgotten. 

Though some all lost in greed of gain appear 
And some seem pleasure mad — react from fear — 

Still they are not forgotten. 

Who could forget the sacrifice they made — 

Youth, love and life on Country's altar laid? 

Think you they are forgotten? 

And those come back from camp or overseas 
Who carry always War's grim memories — 

They shall not be forgotten! 

This day that marks their sacrifice not vain, 

When joy of victory mingles with the pain 
They shall not be forgotten! 

And when at that last reveille we stand 
With them, in that far undiscovered land 
They shall not be forgotten! 












Songs in Many Keys 


35 


III 


Kitchen Songs 

“We may live without friends; 

We may live without books; 

But civilized man can not 
live without cooks.” 

— Owen Meredith. 


36 


Songs in Many Keys 


Canning Time 

(Dedicated to all who can) 

Let housewives sing the woes of Spring 
And cleaning house in rhyme — 

There's nothing quite so hard to me, 
There’s nothing that I hate to see 
Like canning time; like canning time. 

When I survey the long array 

Of empty cans and jars 

To be filled with beans and corn, 

I almost wish I had been born 
On far-off Mars : on far-off Mars. 

The woods invite and mountain height 
With crag and peak sublime — 

But peeling fruit both soon and late 
Is my unalterable fate 
In canning time; in canning time. 

With finished task, my neighbors ask: 
“How many cans have you ?” 

And then I almost burst with pride 
My answer cannot be denied 
“Four hundred jars and forty-two.” 


Songs in Many Keys 


37 


Doughnuts 

The fruit cake is for winter, strawberries 
for the spring 

And peach cream in the summer is just 
about the thing; 

But if you ask for something that's 
liked by one and all, 

Just try the good Dutch doughnut — 
the doughnut in the fall. 

You who have indigestion, this rhyme 
is not for you, 

So do not stop to question — some other 
food must do. 

But if rich food you care for, Til tell 
you how to make 

The good old-fashioned doughnut, the 
finest sort of cake. 

Y r ou take a cup of sugar, three eggs, 
a little lard, 

A cup of milk and flour — stir these 
together hard; 

Two teaspoons baking powder into 
the flour is mixed — 

Enough for a soft, spongy dough you 
should have ready fixed. 

Roll out and cut with cutter and when 
the lard is hot, 

If they brown at once, it's ready; if 
they don't, why it is not. 

When I said “lard" I meant it — from 
oils deliver me! 

If dough and fire are right, better 
cakes you will not see. 


38 


Songs in Many Keys 


If you have indigestion, my warning 
1 repeat, 

This receipe is not for you, these cakes 
you should not eat. 

My sympathy is extended if these you 
must forego. 

There are some, perhaps, will tell you 
“Try nuts without the dough.” 


Songs in Many Keys 


39 


Chow-Chow 

My mother's making chow-chow, the 
art she understands; 

The various things that make it have 
come from many lands. 

Into the sausage grinder — all washed and 
scoured and bright — 

She puts tomatoes, onions, and cabbage 
crisp and white, 

And peppers, giving pungence, she uses 
green and red 

All these into the grinder alternately are 
fed 

And then she mixes salt in, as much as 
she thinks right, 

And this in sacks she empties and presses 
over night, 

Next day the smell of spices by passerby 
is caught, 

The turmeric, celery seeds and cloves from 
distant countries brought — 

White mustard seeds, ground mustard and sugar 
by the cup. 

And good, strong, cider vinegar which is not 
heated up. 

And when she says it's ready and to the 
talkie takes 

We all say there is no chow-chow as good 
as mother makes. 


40 


Songs in Many Keys 


Angel-Food in Rhyme 

If for the childrens' birthdays 
You wish for something good — 

A cake that will not hurt them — 
Just try this angel-food. 

A glass of sifted flour 
And one of sugar, take, 

Sift five times well together 
If a success you'd make. 

A glass of eggs — whites only — 
You beat till very light 
With a tea spoon cream of tartar, 
If you would have it right. 

Fold in the flour and sugar, 

A tea spoon vanilla take, 

In very moderate oven 
Put quickly in to bake. 

Bake this in moderate oven 
Three quarters of an hour. 

Be sure you do not beat it, 

And use the best of flour. 

If this you follow closely 
And make them o'er and o'er, 

Each member of the family ’ 

Will beg for one piece more. 










































♦ 











Songs in Many Keys 


41 


IV 


Songs in Minor Keys 

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak 
each other in passing, 

Only a signal shown and a distant voice in 
the darkness; 

So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak 
one another, 

Only a look and a voice, then darkness 
again and a silence.” 

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 


42 


Songs in Many Keys 


October Seventeenth 

“Not long the living weep above their dead.” 

— John Charles McNeill 
Just this one day — this day to weep 
For him who lies in peaceful sleep — 
Through all the years this day we’ll keep. 

Just this one day — for hearts still ache 
Because he never more will wake — 

(Hearts suffer much before they break). 

We stretch our hands to him in vain, 

The friend we loved comes not again — 

O bitter loss and lasting pain! 

O tender heart! O singer sweet! 

In that far country shall we meet 

When sorrow’s storms no more shall beat? 

O cherished friend, the years move slow 
Until that time when we shall go 
To be with those who wait, we know. 

We turn our faces toward that land 
Where hand shall no more grope for hand, 
Where we shall know and understand. 

1907. 


Songs in Many Keys 


43 


Remembrance 

I thought at Christmas-tide to lay 

The holly wreath with berries red, 
Because your memory lives with me, 

Though others say that you are dead. 

But Nature with a mantle soft, 

With loving hands had been before, 
And deep and white — an emblem fit — 

Your grave with snow had covered o’er. 
I brought Spring flowers at Easter-time 
To lay where snow had lately been; 

Lo ! Nature ha<J been there before 
To deck your grave with living green. 
Though we forget at Easter-tide 

The lillies with their grace and charms, 
Kind Nature decks your resting-place 
And holds you in her sheltering arms. 


44 


Songs in Many Keys 


Anchored 

(In Memory of Mr. Lewis L. Anewalt) 
When I shall have come to the River 
That flows at my last Journey’s end — 

The River that none may cross with me, 

Not father nor mother nor friend; 

When tired hands cease from their labors 
And rest comes to travel- worn feet, 

And eyes that are weary from sunlight 
Find shadows at evening are sweet; 

I crave that some word might be spoken 
When I come to that River so wide ; 

Some word like the hundreds have uttered 
Of one who so lately has died. 

“His life was a blessing to others, 

His kind words and deeds freely given 
With no thought of self — they must surely 
Be stored up as “treasure in Heaven.” 

Almost we can hear the waves beating 
Almost we can see the far shore 
That seems so much fairer and nearer 
Since he, our dear friend, has crossed o’er. 

Soft, soft fall the rain where he’s sleeping, 
Soft, soft as the dew on the sod — 

We know that his beautiful spirit 
Is anchored, safe anchored, with God. 


Songs in Many Keys 


45 


Bitter Sweet 

(To M. B. B.— March 9th, 1910) 

I know, I know that he has reached 
that land 

Where some day, tearless, we shall 
understand ; 

I know that undiscovered country's 
near, 

Where God himself will dry each falling 
tear; 

I know that he is safe from all that 
harms, 

Safe folded in the Everlasting arms ; 

I know our loss is his infinite gain, 

For there he's free from sickness, 
grief and pain; 

I know — and this is bitter-sweet, — that 
there 

He has no need of our protecting care; 

1 know the comfort that our dear friends 
gave 

With sweetest words, and flowers that 
hid his grave; 

I know that on our sunny-hearted boy, 

Life lavished much of happiness and 

j°y; 

I know our Father loves, and knows, 
and cares, 

That every pain and grief with us he 
shares ; 

But so much more, with aching heart, 

I know 

That he is gone before, and “years 
move slow.” 

And none may understand save only 
God; 

How hearts can bleed, the while we 
kiss the rod ! 


46 


Songs in Many Keys 


At Eventide 

The hours of the day have voices 
If we try our best to hear 
They are soft, or low, or strident, 

As we train and attune our ear; 

But spirit-voices sweetest call 
At eventide, when shadows fall. 

The voice of morning, insistent, 

With its sound of bugle and drum, 

Calls forth to the daily combat 
Where the forces of labor hum, 

But sweetest hour, best hour of all, 
Is eventide, when shadows fall. 

Slower, with softer cadence 
Is the voice of the afternoon 
That promises rest from labor 
And the night that cometh soon, 

When the setting sun, a golden ball, 
Gives eventide, when shadows fall. 

Each voice has for us a message, 

We can hear or not as we choose — 
Sometimes in our haste and hurry 
That song of the day we loose, 

But we listen when spirit- voices call 
At eventide, when shadows fall. 

The voices of the night are mournful, 

So fraught with unrest and fears 
We shrink frgm their minor music 
Or list with unwilling ears, 

But we welcome the voice, in cot or hall 
Of eventide, when shadows fall. 


Songs in Many Keys 


47 


Despondency 

Write rhymes today 
When skies are gray? 

I cannot work, 

Each task I shirk. 

With beating rain 
On window pane, 

My muse takes flight 
Till skies are bright. 

Each sudden sound 
Seems ghosts around, 

In every room 
I hear them come. 

Strange, strange that we 
Dependent be 
For joy or pain, 

On sun or rain. 


48 


Songs in Many Keys 


Take Courage 

What matter if skies are dull and gray? 

What matter if steadily falls the rain? 

Take courage, the clouds will pass away, 

The warm bright sun will shine again. 

What matter for us that the hours of pain 
Have racked and torn through all the night? 
Take courage, through suffering much, we gain 
Into others 7 suffering a keen insight. 

What matter for us that weary miles 
Are stretching ’twixt us and our dearest friends ? 
Take courage, some day kind Fate with smiles 
Will see that the separation ends. 

It matters only that we shall bear 

The cloud, the pain and the absence long 

With hearts courageous, without a fear, 

For after the sorrow will come the song. 


Songs in Many Keys 


49 


Sun and Shade 

Swiftly, so swiftly the days go by 
With never a sorrow and never a sigh — 

With merry voice are the glad songs sung 
When days are bright and the heart is young. 

Slowly, so slowly, hearts aching and sore 
With longing for those we meet no more — 
The songs all sung and the tales all told 
When the skies are dark and the heart is old. 

But whether the skies hold rain or rift 
And the days are slow or the days move swift. 
And whether ’tis sunshine or shadow in sight, 
Each brings us at last to the long, sweet night. 


50 


Songs in Many Keys 


Our Holy Dead 

In last, long rest they're sleeping, 
Each in his narrow bed; 

Night's silent stars are keeping 
Watch o'er our holy dead. 

Oftimes we feel them near us — 
Here where our hearts have bled 
Endeavoring to cheer us, 

Our lost, our holy dead. 

Oh, sacred spot and holy! 

We come with rev'rent tread; 
Though they were high or lowly 
They are our holy dead. 

With sheltering trees, and flowers, 
Their fragrance sweet to shed, 
And nature's gentle showers 
To bless our holy dead, 

We'll deck with verdant beauty 
Their quiet, peaceful bed, 

A privilege and duty 
We owe the holy dead. 

1920 


Songs in Many Keys 


51 


V 


Songs of the Road 

“0 gift of God ! O perfect day ; 
Whereon shall no man work, but play; 
Whereon it is enough for me, 

Not to be doing, but to be. 

— iHenry Wadsworth Longfellow. 


52 


Songs in Many Keys 


The Car on the Sand Clay Road 

(After “The House by the Side of the Road.”) 
There are hurrying souls who fly through 
the air, 

Others ride on the trains, at their ease — 
But give me my car on a sand-clay road, 

And others may ride as they please. 

There are indolent souls who sleep half 
the day, 

There are others who work without rest — 

Let me up with the dawn, my hands on the 
wheel — 

And beside me the one I love best. 

There are ease-loving souls with hammock 
and book 

That squander the sweet summer day — 

But give me the engine’s throb and hum 
Over miles upon miles of the way. 

Let others drive horses or travel by boat 
Or tramp on the long, tiresome hike — 

Let me ride in my car all the long Summer 
day 

And stop over wherever I like. 

Let me ride in my car on a sand clay road 
With never a goal to be won, 

And others may work or rest as they will 
From the rise to the set of the sun. 

1913. 



















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Songs in Many Keys 


53 


Then and Now 

The trip to Blowing Rock was slow 
Some thirty years, or more, ago. 

We planned the trip for many days 
And sought the very best of ways 
The many needed things to take — 

The coffee pot, the pans to bake, 

The frying pan, the dishes too, 

The bright tin cups, so nice and new. 
Provisions for a two weeks’ trip; 

No single item must we skip; 

And bed clothes in the wagons went 
With kettle, dishpan, gun and tent. 

We took great cans of bread and ham 
And jellies, pickles, pies and jam; 

It took a day to pack these right, 

But ’twas a most imposing sight. 

We rose betimes, ere break of day, 

And with the sun were on our way. 
Beyond Lenoir we camped at night, 

The tent we pitched, the camp fire bright, 
The Yadkin, with its murmur deep, 

Lulled us and soothed us in our sleep. 
Next day we reached the mountain top 
And “Fair-View” was our final stop. 

Our raptured eyes, that never tired, 

The famous Blowing Rock admired. 

It was a trip for youth and lovers, 

For Cupid near such parties hovers. 


54 


Songs in Many Keys 


Today we rise and break our fast, 

And if the sky is not o’ercast, 

And if the sun seems like to shine, 

We say: “At Blowing Rock we’ll dine.” 
We are ready when the car comes ’round, 
And then go skimming o’er the ground. 
We make the long ascent with speed, 

To pause for rest there is no need. 

No chance has Cupid now, I ween, 

For eye and ear watch the machine. 

We reach the Rock and side trips make 
Before the homeward ride we take. 
Perhaps in future days so fair 
We’ll make the journey through the air; 
Make as you like this ascent steep, 
“Grandfather” still his watch will keep. 


Songs in Many Keys 


55 


A Tiresome Story 

Did you ever rise some morning when the 
sun was warm and bright, 

And your heart was like a feather, for 
your spirits were so light, 

And the smiling skies above you were like 
turquoise — deepest blue, 

And you started on a little jaunt, as others 
often do? 

Did you reach your destination, a hundred 
miles, we'll say, 

Your spirits still undampened by some blow- 
outs on the way, 

And after your companions finished shopping 
in the town, 

Did the clouds begin to gather, and the rain 
come pouring down? 

Did it keep on raining harder the whole 
long journey home, 

While here and there you skidded and wished 
you had not come? 

And lest you felt important as owner of 
a car, 

Did Fate send a dozen blow-outs, your happiness 
to mar? 


56 


Songs in Many Keys 


Were you hours and hours upon the road, and 
did you miss your way? 

Did you promise if you once reached home, 
at home you'd surely stay? 

Did you reach home after mid-night with 
badly shaken nerves, 

After what seemed miles of skidding, and 
fifty dangerous curves? 

Did you say if you were pardoned for 
going off so far, 

You would never take another trip in 
any-body’s car? 

And did you soon forget it, and pleased as 
pleased could be, 

Say, “Yes, it was delightful!”? You did? 
Well so did we. 

September, 1914. 






























































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Songs in Many Keys 


57 


VI 


Songs of Home 

“Stay, stay at home, my heart, 
and rest ; 

Home-keeping hearts are 
happiest, 

For those that wander they 
know not where 

Are full of trouble and full 
of care; 

To stay at home is best.” 

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 


58 


Songs in Many Keys 


To Peggy 

(April 6th, 1916) 

I saw you first one April day 
When Nature was all blithe and gay, 
With daffodils and violets blue — 

So violets make me think of you. 

All free from care, your winning face 
Was full of every tender grace, 

Your little, fragile, clinging hands 
Have bound me fast as iron hands. 

Your words were music to my ear. 
Though all misunderstood, I fear, 

And when you smiled with happy mirth, 
I caught a glimpse of Heaven on earth. 
I've watched, in many varied scene, 

Your face all tranquil and serene, 

No frown nor line its beauty mars, 

Your twinkling eyes are like twin stars. 
May all your life be like the flower 
That blossomed for your natal hour. 

The dainty, fragrant violet blue 
That always makes me think of you. 


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Songs in Many Keys 


59 


The Ramseur Reunion 

I've been to the reunion and it was simply 
grand 

To meet five hundred cousins, the finest in the land. 

“Twas “Cousin Tom” who met us and gave us 
greeting kind, 

More gracious host and hostess it would be 
hard to find. 

The spacious home was open and pleasant 
porch and lawn 

Were filled with those who gathered by the 
ties of kindred dawn. 

There we saw Jims and Charlies and Daves 
and Claudes and Kates. 

And Samuels, Johns and Henry s and some from 
other States; 

And Margarets, Sues and Marys and Annies by 
the score, 

From early mom till evening they kept coming 
more and more. 

The speeches were delightful; they made us 
all feel glad 

That we were Ramseur kindred, and yet they 
made us sad. 

And such a picnic dinner upon long tables 
spread, 

Such cakes and pies and chickens, Dutch 
cheese and ham and bread — « 

It was a great reunion where all were at 
their ease, 

Where you could talk and come and go 
exactly as you'd please. 


60 


Songs in Many Keys 


February Rain 

A driving rain on the window pane, 

A book and an open fire, 

A long, long night to read or write — 

What more could the heart desire? 

The “movies” wait and the hour grows late, 
But I do not heed the call, 

The raindrops' beat makes music sweet 
As fast and faster they fall. 

No voice I've heard of singing bird 

Can so charm when Spring is near — 
Like tinkling bells I love them well 
When my soul is attuned to hear. 

No call of friends, no word they send, 

Can lure me from books and fire; 

With a driving rain on my window pane 
What more could the heart desire? 


Songs in Many Keys 


61 


School Time 

All through the Summer the house was gay 
With mirth and music and innocent play, 

And cheerful faces would go and come 
Because the children were all at home. 

The house is silent, all strange and still — 
No one to answer me, call as 1 will — 

And days of loneliness is the rule, 

Because the children are off at school. 

From mild September till Christmas comes 
We wait their coming in vacant homes — 
But soon — for Life has made this rule — 

The child must enter his long, hard school. 


62 


Songs in Many Keys 


To Phoebe 

At last I’ve found the model girl, 

Her hair she does not stop to curl, 

In shopping she does not engage, 

No clubs or cards with her the rage. 

She does not tease for handsome clothes 

Her brain is free from thoughts of beaux, 

No cross or unkind word she gives 

To those within whose home she lives, 

She’s young and pretty, good and sweet 
As any girl you’d wish to meet — 

The secret must at last be told — 

Pheobe is only six weeks old. 

Sept. 22nd, 1915. 


Songs in Many Keys 


63 


The Quarantine for Flu 

They say the flu's the very worst 
thing you have ever had, 

But seems to me the quarantine is 
not entirely bad. 

Our family gets acquainted since 
we have no place to go, 

And so I say the quarantine is like 
“ill-winds” that blow. 

Now father reads his paper and talks 
to us, of nights, 

And mother reads and talks and sews, 
or long, long letters writes. 

Big brother Jim — away all day — 
stays home and plays a game, 

And sister Jane — (the movies closed), 
Why she does just the same. 

No lessons now for me to learn — 
the schools are closed up, too — 

And so I say it's not so bad — this 
quarantine for flu. 

And after while Jane plays the songs 
we've scarcely heard before, 
Because no one was ever home — she 
plays them o'er and o'er. 

Then everybody goes to bed to sleep 
the whole night through, 

And father says that, flu or not, it is 
what we should do. 

And we have just the nicest times — 
the best we ever had — 

And so I say the quarantine is not 
entirely bad. 


64 


Songs in Many Keys 


Memories 

Christmas is not what it used to be 

When the family circle all unbroken, 

Awoke to the joys that the season 
brought 

With ‘‘Merry Christmas” and gifts and 
token. 

Well, the circle was broken long 
years ago 

And the times have changed past our 
recognition ; 

We pause for a day, do the hours 
move slow 

This day that should herald the 
year’s fruition? 

But spite of the present-day stress 
and change, 

We long for the dear, remembered 
faces, 

And Memory holds on her pictured 
walls 

These framed in the old, the accustomed 
places. 

The memories come and the memories go, 

Some touched with sadness, some 
tinged with regret, 

But touched with sorrow or touched 
with joy 

Dear Christmas memories — who could 
ever forget? 




























Songs in Many Keys 


65 


VII 


Miscellaneous 

“Turn, turn, my wheel! All life 
is brief; 

What now is bud will soon be 

leaf, , 

What now is leaf will soon 
decay; 

The wind blows east, the wind 
blows west; 

The blue eggs in the robin's nest' 

Will soon have wings and beak 
and breast, 

And flutter and fly away.” 

— Henry Wordsworth Longfellow. 


66 


Songs in Many Keys 


* 


Wishes 

If a fairy should offer to grant you one wish, 

While waving her hand lightly o'er you, 

What choice would you make? What one wish supreme 
Would rise, on the instant, before you ? 

Would you ask for good friends — surely life's 
greatest gift? 

Or for honor, or fame, or renown ? 

Would you ask that your days in quiet be spent? 

Or for life in the big, bustling town ? 

Would you ask her for jewels, for silver or gold? 

Would your heart turn to riches and treasure ? 

Or would you choose love as your heart's dearest wish — 
Love lasting, love true, without measure ? 

Though before Youth and Age scores of wishes might rise, 
The one wish from all those who roam — 

The one dearest wish — the one wish supreme — 

Not for fortune or fame — but for HOME. 


Songs in Many Keys 


67 


A Service Song 

Tune — Webb. 

For health, for peace, for plenty, 

For country, home and friends, 

We render thanks unceasing 
For all His goodness sends. 

May we with warm hearts burning, 
Strive in this glorious day, 

By gifts we bring the Master 
This debt of love to pay. 

What service may we render? 

What offering shall we bring? 

To render grateful tribute 

To Christ, our Lord and King? 

Each one, though high or lowly, 
With talents great or small, 

May serve as she is able, 

For there is work for all. 

Not all may cross the ocean 
But all can serve Him here; 

Though all may not be leaders, 

To some the call rings clear. 

But room for faithful followers 
Of these a mighty band 

Who work for Him with gladness, 
With willing heart and hand. 


68 


Songs in Many Keys 


Then “Forward be our watch-word/ 7 
From hindrances set free; 

Until at last we gather 

Where all His glory see — 
Where we will hear the welcome 
When Life's long race is run, 
“Well done thou faithful servant,” 
When we the crown have won. 

1920. 


Songs in Many Keys 


69 


The Mountain Whites 

(After “The Native Irishman.”) 

Before I came from way up North 
To this delightful place, 

1 thought the native Mountaineers 
A funny sort of race. 

I thought they lived in tiny huts, 

And none of them wore shoes. 

And none of them could read or write 
And all said “you-uns” and “yous.” 

I thought they never went to church, 

And schools were quite unknown, 

And children idled all the time, 

And men were — children grown. 

I thought that sawdust filled their heads 
Where we are blessed with brains, 

And that no mountain white had sense 
To come in when it rains. 

But when I came unto the land 
Of which I heard so much, 

I found that the inhabitants 
Were not entirely such. 

I found their features were not all 
Exactly like baboons, 

1 found that some wore hats and coats 
And some had pantaloons. 

I found their teeth were quite as small 
As Northern peoples' are 

And that their ears, in point of size, 

Were not peculiar. 


70 


Songs in Many Keys 


I even saw a face or two 

That might be handsome called, 

And by their very largest feet 
1 was not much appalled. 

I found some educated men, 

Their names I could recall; 

And heard some sentences that did 
Not always start with “Waal.” 

I saw, and this you'll not believe, 

A Judge among the lot, 

And several whose houses were 
Much larger than a cot. 

I saw some women dressed with taste, 
Saw children playing ball; 

Some houses with a porch and stove 
And pictures on the wall. 

In fact they're not all brutes or fools 
And I supect that when, 

You place them by the Yankee's side 
They'll prove as valiant men. 

March, 1912. 


Songs in Many Keys 


71 


Our Mission Band 

(Adapted from “The Angels Song,” Standard Songs, 
No. 25. 

We’re happy children in our Mission Band, 

We’re ever ready with heart and with hand 
Gladly our offerings of love we bring, 

Offerings, to Jesus, our Savior and King. 

We to the children far off would send 
Tidings of Jesus our Savior and Friend, 

Tidings we’ll send to each distant land — 

This is the work of our Mission Band. 

CHORUS 

Tidings, glad tidings of joy we’ll send 
Tidings of Jesus, our Savior and Friend — 
Tidings we’ll send to each distant land, 

This is the work of our Mission Band. 

Though we are young we will work with our might, 
Striving each day for the true and the right, 

Doing each day what our hands find to do 
Striving each day to be faithful and true. 

Working for others with hearts full of love, 

Trying to follow our Master above — 

Serving with heart and with voice and with hand — 
This is the work of our Mission Band. 

CHORUS 


72 


Songs in Many Keys 


At Last — The Vote 

Come Sarah, Maude, Elizabeth, 

Jane, Mary, Kate and Sue — 

Rose, Margaret, Annie, Amy, 

Belle, Gertrude, Helen, Lou — 

Come all! In nineteen twenty 
We’ll sound a ringing note, 

Though many years in coming, 

This year we go to vote ! 

For weeks we’ve been “instructed” 
By some well blessed with sense, 

And some who only lately 
Sat uncertain on the fence, 

And some who had fought suffrage 
Stood up, (and this is true), 

To tell us ignorant women 
Just what we ought to do. 

But while we see the humor, 

And understand the play, 

We’ll rise to the occasion 
And greet the glorious day. 

So come, my fellow citizens, 

A cheer from every throat—- 
The second of November 
We go to cast our vote! 

October 24th, 1920. 


Songs in Many Keys 


73 


Lake Junaluska 

(To Mrs. F. L. Hunter of Durham, N. C.) 

Oh, beautiful beyond compare are 
Junaluska’s waters, 

’Tis here each year the South sends up 
her splendid sons and daughters, 

No lovlier spot was ever seen as Nature 
had designed it, 

And, aided by man’s skillful hand, 
the lovliest spot we lind it. 

No artist’s brush can reproduce her 
towering mountain ranges — 

Majestic, restful, stately, they know 
naught of war or changes, 

Her wealth of beauty none can tell, 
no pen can e’er portray it, 

And yet, so potent is the spell, my 
feeble pen essays it. 

At sunset when we ride at ease on 
stately “Oonaguska” 

We vote this hour the best of all 
spent at Lake Junaluska. 

Or riding in the powerful car with 
new, kind friends beside us, 

It seems the very crown of life, this 
joy was not denied us. 


74 


Songs in Many Keys 


Shall we forget the friendships formed 
or kindly words there spoken? 

No breadth of land or length of time, 
can make these ties be broken. 

Here nature sends her vassal, Sleep, 
to soothe the tired and weary 

And pleasing dreams on all alike — no 
night is sad or dreary. 

Here nature lavishes her best, here, 
growing strong and husky, 

A life time would be far too short 
Spent at Lake Junaluska! 


Songs in Many Keys 


75 


Sleep 

Let others rise if they desire 
The gorgeous sunrise to admire — 

Their souls in morning's joys to steep — 

For me, I'd much, much rather sleep. 

I've heard grand concerts by the birds, 
Too sweet for my poor, halting words; 

Their early hours they, too, may keep, 

If they will only let me sleep. 

Let others take an early ride — 

And tell of it with glowing pride — 

And watch o'er hills the sun’s first peep, 
But 1 would much, much rather sleep. 

Those who have work may rise at five, 
Some think it is the way to thrive 
If they would health and riches heap — 

Let me stay poor, but let me sleep. 

They say Insomnia lays his hand 
On some who say in our own land 
That sleep at any price is sweet — 
Strange, there are those who cannot sleep! 

We've heard from childhood's early hour 
Of birds and worm, of bee and flower — 
They're welcome quite to all they reap, 

If I'm allowed in peace to sleep. 


76 


Songs in Many Keys 


Suppose 

Suppose each woman, man and boy 
and girl would try the plan 
Of doing for one single year the very 
best they can. 

Suppose each second, minute, hour of 
every single day 

Were filled with kindly deeds to all 
they meet along the way; 

In every week, in every month of 
just one little year 
The helpful deeds to mountain height 
would rise both far and near. 

For one whole year no unkind words, 
no greed nor grasping gain, 

But helpfulness to every one in sorrow, 
grief or pain; 

No leaving for some other hands the 
work that they could do, 

But seizing opportunities to help, the 
whole year through. 

If this could be of world-wide scope 
all wars would quickly cease 
And everywhere on land and seas 
would rest the Dove of Peace. 

If this could be, 1 wonder how this 
busy world would seem? 

Perhaps like happy fairylands that we 
have seen in dreams. 

Suppose we try for just one year to 
make this dream come true, 

If everybody else will help, I will, and 
so should you. 


Songs in Many Keys 


77 


Our Club 

(To The Thursday Study Club of Hickory) 

Here's to the club that each loves the best! 

Here's to the club where we find needed rest 
Where friends meet together and moments fly fast. 
And each pleasant meeting surpasses the last 
Where all are congenial and every one kind 
Where each gives the best of her knowledge and mind, 
Where little sharp corners are smoothed with a rub. 
So first, last, and always, here's to our Club ! 


78 


Songs in Many Keys 


Dixie Land 

Oh, Dixie-land is a land of flowers, 

Sunny skies and cooling showers 
We sing, we sing, we sing Dixie-land. 

We love her streams and towering mountains 
Fertile fields and sparkling fountains, 

We sing, we sing, we sing Dixie-land. 

CHORUS 

Then raise the cheering chorus, we sing, we sing 
Here some have wealth and all have health 
And all are glad in Dixie, 

We sing, we sing, we're glad we live in Dixie. 

We sing, we sing, we’re glad we live in Dixie. 

Prosperity and peace abound here 

All the fruits and grains are found here, 

We sing, we sing, we sing Dixie-land. 

Her sons and daughters stand together 
To aid in fair or stormy weather, 

We sing, we sing, we sing Dixie-tand. 

CHORUS 

When duty calls to distant places 
We miss her dear familiar faces 
We sing, we sing, we sing Dixie-land. 

We raise again the cheering chorus, 

While soft and sunny skies smile o’er us 
We sing, we sing, we sing Dixie-land. 

CHORUS 


Songs in Many Keys 


79 


Come to Hickory 

If you would forget your woes 
“Come to Hickory” 

If you seek a town that grows 
“Come to Hickory” 
Hickory's climate is the best 
North or South or East or West — 
If you want to work or rest 
“Come to Hickory!” 

If a social life you crave 

“Come to Hickory” 

If your dollars you would save 
“Come to Hickory” 
Handsome churches you will see, 
Finest schools as all agree, 

If contented you would be 

“Come to Hickory!” 

Here you'll find the queen of flowers 
“Come to Hickory” 

Roses wet with April showers, 
“Come to Hickory” 

All the summer-long they blow, 
Here the fragrant violets grow, 

Fine chrysanthemums we show — 
“Come to Hickory!” 


80 


Songs in Many Keys 


Public spirit you will find — 
“Come to Hickory” 
Everyone you meet is kind 
“Come to Hickory” 
Charming girls so sweet and gay, 
Manly boys, our hope and stay 
Never wish to go away — 

“Come to Hickory!” 

Clubs for women, clubs for men — 
“Come to Hickory” 

Clubs that number five times ten, 
“Come to Hickory” 

Men and women, kind and true, 
Do just what they say they’ll do, 
Waiting here to welcome you, 
“Come to Hickory!” 



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